This is truly one for the book.
There I was, yesterday afternoon, sitting at my computer and trying to solve an algebraic equation! Egads. I was scheduled to take the GREs today in preparation for my application to various graduate schools. At 5:30 pm, I got a phone call from my agent David Cash, saying that Law & Order wanted to hire me for a week, would I be available. Uh...yes. "Your first day would be tomorrow". Huh?
So much for the GRE.
I had auditioned for this new episode ("Tango") last Wednesday, and was completely flummoxed because I waited an hour and a half to get in. It was also the first night of the Winter Workshop which I am teaching with Eva Burgess , and I finally told Suzanne Ryan (Law & Order's casting director) that I had to leave. She squeezed me in, but I was in such a tizzy I assumed that was the end of it.
And it was. They cast somebody else.
But, whomever they cast suddenly booked a commercial and I was their next pick. So lo and behold...the role was mine. Not bad. A week's work on a network show in the middle of a writer's strike. I'm stoked!
I immediately contacted Ted Sluberski, and had a great coaching session.
So today I showed up at Chelsea Piers at 5pm and was rushed into hair and make-up. I got a great free haircut. And then on to wardrobe. Before I knew it, I was sitting in a bustling courtroom watching the work of such esteemed actors as Jeffrey DeMunn, Marlyne N. Afflack, Maria Dizzia, Valerie Whitman, Alana de la Garza...it was wild! Peter Parros was superb as Judge Matthew Alden, as was Eli Ganias who plays the court Clerk.
While I was in hair and make-up, Jesse L. Martin (who plays detective Green on the show) came in to chat. It's Jesse's birthday tomorrow (January 18) and apparently there had been cake. He was talking to Marlyne about The Wire, and was so passionate about the show, wondering why it hadn't been nominated for an Emmy for Best Ensemble. He went on and on about how underrated th
e show is. ( I can't wait to watch it on DVD. I don't have cable, so I've never seen it.) And then the conversation turned to my friend John Doman (pictured on left), who is one of the stars of The Wire. John did a guest-star on Law & Order back in December, and everyone was so delighted to work with him. I was grinning to myself, thinking I just directed John Doman in reading of Orange Alert. How lucky was I to have such a great actor!
All I can say is...thank God for Dick Wolf. I don't know how they managed to keep shooting while everyone else isn't working. But I'm so grateful for the opportunity. And for the paycheck. Maybe now I can have my teeth cleaned.
Ciao for now.
Wayne
Keeping with the same topic as my entry yesterday - the role of positive feedback in the creative process - here's a little excerpt from Khaled Hosseini's extraordinary novel The Kite Runner.One day, in July 1973, I played another little trick on Hassan. I was reading to him, and suddenly I strayed from the writte
n story. I pretended I was reading from the book, flipping pages regularly, but I had abandoned the text altogether, taken over the story, and made up my own. Hassan, of course, was oblivious to this. To him, the words on the page were a scramble of codes, indecipherable, mysterious. Words were secret doorways and I held all the keys. After, I started to ask him if he'd liked the story, a giggle rising in my throat, when Hassan began to clap.
"What are you doing?" I said.
"That was the best story you've read me in a long time, " he said, still clapping.
I laughed. "Really?"
"Really."
"That's fascinating," I muttered. I meant it too. This was...wholly unexpected. "Are you sure, Hassan?"
He was still clapping. "It was great, Amir agha. Will you read me more of it tomorrow?"
"Fascinating," I repeated, a little breathless, feeling like a man who discovers a buried treasure in his own backyard. Walking down the hill, thoughts were exploding in my head like the fireworks at Chaman. Best story you've read me in a long time, he'd said. I had read him a lot of stories. Hassan was asking me something.
"What?" I said.
"What does that mean, 'fascinating'?"
I laughed. Clutched him in a hug and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"What was that for?" he said, startled, blushing.
I gave him a friendly shove. Smiled. "You're a prince, Hassan. You're a prince and I love you."
That same night, I wrote my first short story.
I couldn't have been more proud last night as I listened to my friend Stephen Girasuolo's writing come to life. His new work Orange Alert had its first reading last night at Tom Noonan's studio on 
East 4th Street. Mr. Noonan (pictured here at left) has been mentoring Stephen in his writing, and was on-hand for the occasion. The actors had only one rehearsal the previous Saturday, which was completely focused on the writing - developing the characters and teasing out plot lines. Yesterday they were handed new scripts fifteen minutes before the reading. The scripts reflected the changes Stephen had made over the course of the week, including entirely new scenes. The reading came off without a hitch. The actors were splendid under the circumstances, and by all measures the writing had taken a great leap forward in the week since we first had read it. After the reading, Stephen and I were invited across the street to Mr. Noonan's apartment so we could get his "notes" on the play.
Tom Noonan has been working as an actor, writer, director, and teacher for 30 years. He's starred in numerous movies, on TV, and his film What Happened Was won the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance in 1994. I confess I was eager to meet him, and grateful for the opportunity Stephen had given me. But what transpired in the course of twenty minutes left me flabbergasted. Mr. Noonan began his notes session with an attack on my directing (for a non-staged reading, with no rehearsal!!?), went on to insult the great majority of the actors who so graciously gave of their time to contribute to the process, and finally offered up a cursory analysis of what he perceived to be the weaknesses of the script. I was stunned. Not because he was critical. I can take criticism. And I really didn't care what he thought of me personally, or even my work for that matter. I'm not that insecure. What angered me, however, was his complete lack of generosity toward Stephen. All artists need support and encouragement, especially from their so-called mentors. Of course there needs to be criticism, but this must be tempered with a respect for the writer and his process. Giving credit for work well-done is every bit as important as picking apart what you don't like. That this man is charging for his space (which barely had enough light to read by, mind you) and then also charging for his "expert" services on top of it borders on the criminal. I could excuse his behavior if I thought he was high on crack. But alas, he seemed to be completely lucid, if not sober.
So here is my little warning to any of you out there who may be searching for a writing or acting teacher. Just because someone has fancy credits doesn't mean they're the person to turn to for your own growth and development as an artist. The creative impulse responds to "yes" and is stunted by "no". This is basic human psychology. Perhaps Mr. Noonan considers it his style to be curt, abrupt, and nonsupporting. I call it testosterone poisoning and consider acting teachers who affront students this way to be abusive.
The main thing, though, is that Stephen's work was a tremendous success. It's hard to put yourself out there, and open yourself up for commentary. I applaud him on his bravery and look forward to reading the next stage of development of Orange Alert .
